


Vignettes

by BornOnAFridayIn91



Category: Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century (Cartoon)
Genre: Ethics, F/M, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 22:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17068073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornOnAFridayIn91/pseuds/BornOnAFridayIn91
Summary: A series of vignettes mostly revolving around Holmes and Lestrade.





	Vignettes

Lestrade didn’t come up with that hair brained scheme overnight. It was always in the back of her head, just like Holmes, down in the basement of a New Scotland Yard storage facility, hidden among old murder books and evidence.

Holmes didn’t jump into the idea head first either. His resurrection was meticulously planned. Papers were signed by him, granting the Lestrade family power of attorney over his remains and leaving no shadow of doubt that he knew exactly what he was doing. Affidavits were signed by a physician stating that Holmes was in good enough physical and mental health to endure the strain. The Lestrade family was even given the journals of Dr. John H. Watson. Holmes was always meant to have the journals and the family was only holding them until his return.

Holmes wanted it this way because he knew, in his heart of hearts, that somehow the world was not ridden of James Moriarty and that he would return in some form or another. Holmes wanted to be there if, or when, Moriarty returned.

Lestrade had thought about it for nearly a year prior to when she began to implement it. She knew something strange was happening. There were signs everywhere that led to Moriarty in hindsight; multiple break ins at the Holmes museum, trespassing at Reichenbach, which had been closed off to the public for years due to avalanche activity. Seeing Moriarty, alive and well was the final straw she needed. She knew the steps she had to take for this to be even remotely legal. She had to get the packet of documents that Holmes had signed all those years ago and a doctor to do it.

Holmes could be the third person to be resurrected. Sir Evan Hargreaves was the inventor of the process, but never wanted to patent the process or profit off it. He remarked that the one true reason anyone would go to such lengths to resurrect another, would be heartbreak; the kind of heartbreak a deceased loved one leaves. He could never profit from such sadness and never hid his secrets. Also, he didn’t want the failure on his shoulders. He’d allow others that burden. The first was a doctor from Glasgow who had been tinkering with the process itself and wanted to be the first resurrection. When the good doctor returned, it was a media storm and ethical nightmare. What does this mean for the world now? There needed to be laws and regulations. What does this mean for religion? Is there a god?

Lestrade couldn’t think about that yet. That was a problem for future her. Her mind was on those papers. That was as easy as a trip to the bank. Tucked away in her family’s lockbox were the documents she needed. Lestrade just had to get the code, which meant she had to tell her father.

Each Lestrade was somewhat of Holmes’ keeper. It started with Gregory, then his son James, James’ son Thomas, Thomas’ daughter Katherine, Katherine’s daughter Tessa, right up till Lestrade’s father, and Lestrade herself. They kept Holmes’ papers and knew the protocol. Holmes was cared for in all those years he was gone. The Lestrade family changed the honey several times and the casket he was interred in when the current one began to show wear.

She wasn’t sure what to expect when she called her dad. Would he understand? Would he be resistant? Lestrade really wasn’t in the mood to be lectured. She knew this was the right road.

As soon as the time zones cooperated, she called her father.

“Hey, Beth!” David Lestrade said happily, seeing his daughter’s face. “How are things?”

“Weird. Things are weird,” She answered. David’s brow furrowed, “There’s been break ins at the Holmes museum, someone is recruiting criminals. I think it’s Moriarty…”

“What are you saying?” David leaned forward.

“We need Holmes. Moriarty is back. Somehow. No one recovered Moriarty’s body, remember? Maybe Holmes’ knew something we don’t.”

“It’s not just up to me, sweetheart.” David said. Lestrade’s heart sank, “Look, I gotta talk to Grandpa and the aunts about this. How about we all call you Friday night and we’ll discuss this as a family.”

Lestrade sighed and nodded. “That’ll work.” It wasn’t the response she wanted, patience was never her strong suit, but it was better than ‘you’re crazy! No!’.

David nodded, “Stay safe out there. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The call ended.

Lestrade leaned back in her chair and clutched her forehead, “Great. A tribunal.”

Friday night came slowly. Lestrade rehearsed for days what she wanted to say to make her case. Lestrade paced in her living room, in front of her computer, waiting for it to chime with an incoming call. It was just getting light out. She mourned for the extra hour of sleep she lost for this call. The time difference between London and middle-class America was bothersome even for a quick chat, let alone something this important.

The terminal chimed and Lestrade sat down, accepting the call. The screen came alive with the faces of her family. Her twin brother Matt, a police officer in their hometown sat in his living room, a ceiling fan whirling above him. Their two aunts, Magdalene and Bridget, or ‘Jett’, were huddled together in Maggie’s dining room, the garish wallpaper was a dead giveaway. Her Grandpa sat quietly, his hands clasped as he looked at the screen. Lastly, her father was there in his home office, the door closed.

For a moment, no one said anything. Greetings seemed too small for the topic they needed to discuss.

“Are you sure he’s back dear, you saw him?” Aunt Jett asked.

“Yes. He’s working with this rogue geneticist, Martin Fenwick. I know we’re toeing the lines of ethics ourselves here, but this guy has done some fu-, sorry, _messed_ up things. Like brain transplants and ‘organ repossessions’. Most of his victims were in such agony when we found them, it was more humane to euthanize them. I’m talking Marie Lalaurie levels of messed up. Once he ran out of victims, he started experimenting on himself, altering his DNA and turned into some weird looking troll. He doesn’t even look human anymore. He looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘My master, your worst nightmare.’ That, and there was no DNA match on their getaway car, other than Fenwick’s. I mean, there was DNA there, just _unregistered_ DNA.” Lestrade explained.

“I’m game. Let’s do it.” Matt said, confidently.

“Wait, wait, wait,” David said, holding a hand up. “We have a lot to talk about here,”

“Okay, but what if when Moriarty is captured? Then what? And where is Holmes gonna live?” Maggie asked.

“We all promised to be his stewards in his death and his life if it were to come of it. Tresa and I have some money in the bank, more than enough to get him secured in a new apartment until he gets on his feet without inconveniencing ourselves in the event of a rainy day.” David said.

“I don’t mind at all if he needs to stay with me for a time,” Lestrade added.

“He took other cases besides Moriarty.” Matt stated.

“You’ll be his helper, Beth, can you handle that? Remember what kinda time he’s from…”

“Dad, I’m a cop. I put up with misogynistic assholes for a living. At least Holmes had the capability of being a gentleman.”

“Well, it’s not only that,” Aunt Maggie spoke up, “the man was a habitual drug user and likely had a mental illness. Is it even humane to bring him back to that kind of suffering?”

“Almost everyone has a mental illness, Mag.” Matt said, “They’re really not that big of a deal anymore. He can go to therapy if he wants and if not, there’s meds which are just as effective. Also, who uses cocaine? People have moved on. I barely even see it them streets anymore.”

“He’s right,” Beth said, “I’ve only came across it once here in London and that was five years ago.”

“From my understanding, the rejuvenation process will clear his body of any effects of drug dependency. That coupled with the lack of availability, I don’t see Holmes having an issue. For insurance purposes, the doc can shoot some blockers into his nervous system so if he tries anything screwy, nothing will happen. That leads us to our next point, do you have someone in mind who can do this, Beth?”

“Yeah, he’s name is Hargreave’s. I’m sending you this news story about him now.”

One by one, their terminals chimed with the incoming message.

“We still have think about what we’re subjecting him to. I know that he had a doctor’s consent to do this, but that science is so old and outdated now, it’s hardly even science anymore. Think about what this means for religion. For the rest of his life, he’s gonna be subjected to people harassing him about what death is like. What religion is right…” Jett said.

Matt interjected, “The two others before him, that mom from Texas and the doctor in Glasgow, they have no memories of the afterlife. It’s kinda a moot point.”

“Well, remember what happened to the doctor,” Maggie started, “he has cancer that metastasized and didn’t have a single instance of cancer in his family. Didn’t Holmes have early signs of dementia when he died? Alzheimer’s, cancer, addiction, mental illness, I don’t think he should have ever been a candidate in the first place.”

“That doctor bucked all medical advice and went on a world tour about his experience. Again, everything you said is completely manageable and no longer a death sentence or horrible way to live. Look, we can’t baby this guy. He’ll have to be monitored closer than average person. We can’t bend to him. He’ll have to suck it up and take care of himself, of my god, the horror!” Matt rolled his eyes.

The family have a small laugh at Matt’s theatrics.

“Back to what I was saying earlier. You’re gonna have to be his aide, his guide to the 22nd century, Beth.” David said, “You’re gonna have to teach him how to do almost everything; how to use a modern phone, how to use a computer, modern etiquette. Do we all think he can handle all this?”

“I can,” Lestrade stated firmly.

“If Moriarty is back, then we have to do something. I’m with Beth on this.” Matt said.

“Dad, you’ve been awfully quite this whole time. What do you think?” David asked.

“Well,” The Lestrade elder started, “Beth has never been one to lie or fall prone to exaggerations. If she says she saw Moriarty, I believe her. Holmes had this all planned out in the event he did, and he has. I think it’s time to wake the old man up.”

“Well, I guess I’m with Dad. This is what Holmes wanted. I think it’s time to move forward.” David said.

“I have my reservations, but if Dad thinks it’s what we need to do, I agree.” Jett agreed.

“Me too,” Maggie added.

Beth sighed in relief, falling back in her chair.

“Beth, this is just the first hurdle.” David warned, “You gotta remember how long he’s been down there and what kinda life, what kinda shock we’re gonna subject this man too. We’ve always been told by the Yard techs that the longer Holmes is in there, the less of a chance he has to come out of it. The last time we changed the honey and examined him was seven years ago. The docs said the window of opportunity was rapidly closing. They estimated he’s only viable for a few more years. After that, his projected health significantly decreases. If he’s not living by the end of this decade, I’m afraid I’ll have to make the call and inter him. Holmes never stated in his life or Will the parameters in which the experiment was stopped. So, we have to decide for him.”

“Well, I guess I need to hurry then.” Lestrade said.

David grinned at his daughter’s tenacity. “The code is 74439. Box 319. You’ll find all that you need.”

“Keep us updated,” Jett said.

“I will, I promise,” Lestrade replied.

The elders left the call, leaving the siblings. Matt eyed his twin for a moment. “So, you’re really gonna do it?”

“Guess so.”

Matt grinned, “Tell him to call me when he wakes up. I have questions for him like that Red Headed League plot hole!”

His voice hurried as he saw Lestrade move to end the call, grinning at her brother but not wanting to indulge any fanboy tendencies.

Lestrade jumped out of her chair, “Watson! Memo to Greyson!”

“Recording.”

“Chief, I can’t come in today.” She faked a cough, “I’m sick.”

She could almost feel the compudroid judging her. “Shut up and get in the cruiser.”

Getting to the bank and into the lockbox was a blur, but seeing Holmes’ signature, written in ink by his own hand was surreal. This was really happening.

 


End file.
